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Elegy War Poems | Elegy Poems About War

These Elegy War poems are examples of Elegy poems about War. These are the best examples of Elegy War poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Elegy |

Causalities of War

.                                                     Beneath a blanket of earth
                                                     With a pillow made of stone
                                                       Her child eternally sleeps

.                                                     While at the foot of his bed
                                                           She stands alone
                                               And weeps! And weeps! And weeps!

.                                                  Written:  November 20th, 2009
                                                    Author:  Elaine George

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2009

Details | Elegy |


Lights Out

One hundred years on and still the shout
“Everyone put your lights out”
Just for an hour from 10 to 11
And remember all those souls in heaven

One hundred years and still the cry
The perennial unanswered question “why?”
Is there a need in this hour of deed
For any to ignore or not to heed?

One hundred years, millions dead
In battles, wars and streets of dread
Trenches then, now car bombs blast
Tearing at families left aghast

One hundred years – again LIGHTS OUT
Not one city but the country throughout
Is this too much to ask ourselves
For those who died through bayonet and shells?

Lights out and let us honour our dead
Light a single candle in room or shed
Remember those terse words upon us yet
“Lest we Forget – lest we forget!”

August 4th 2014

Copyright © Thomas Mansfield | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy |

My Return To Normandy

High on the Normandy cliffs
Looking out over Pointe du Hoc
As cold Atlantic winds whisper out
The names of the brothers I left behind
Now only fine marble monument shadows
Dot the trenches and empty emplacements 
As the final testimony of the fallen
Still ringing frightened with those desperate voices
Proclaiming both their lives and death
That they were ever here…

In the emerald hills of Collville Sur Mur
I can still hear the phantom naval shells screaming
Underneath the crying of men
Pulverized and dying in their comrades arms
All for the belief of the land from which they hail
While the roaring waves wash the still bloody sands
In and endless and rending cycle
That silent cacophony of brother and foe
Call out to me still for comfort and aid
Asking only to be remembered…

Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2008

Details | Elegy |

Son of War

The snow fell on bloody ground
turning the white to red, eating the silent
flakes till they disappeared into red dust.
The hand lay still...hopelessly bound
in death. Warm red snow was not meant
to melt and cover white life with lust.

No breath melted the blanket of white
dancing playfully on the mother's son
who lay coldly quiet 'neath nature's cover. 
He had wanted to stay...not feel the splice
of war...taking him beyond the red sun
atop the earth where the hawks hover.

Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2008

Details | Elegy |

Memorial Day

The fields are now quiet, The thunder long gone; The graves with their shadows Stretch on and on. The battle once here Lives but in the past, Of a war meant to be Of all wars the last. The flags and the trumpets, The glory and fear, Led men to battle; Led but to here.

Copyright © Jerome Malenfant | Year Posted 2017

Details | Elegy |

A Service Member's Prayer

A Service Member's Prayer

Oh, God, I feel that I have cause
To know my life might give You pause,
But fair as You are sure to be,
I seek Your way on bended knee.
I wish neither to kill nor die,
Though from engagement I'll not shy.
For if my duty calls me there,
I'll do whatever I must dare.

I seek not courage for the fight.
I seek not comfort from the night.
I ask not pardon for my deeds,
Nor any salve for any needs.
I only ask to know what's right,
To do my best to check my might,
To render mercy where I should,
To know I serve the greater good.

Oh, God, if You will hear my plea,
I ask so very much of thee.
I fear not men, I fear not death,
Yet bow my head and still my breath
To ask You, please, to do Your best,
To keep me from eternal rest,
Until the hour my duty sends
Me home to family and friends.

And if You grant my humble prayer,
Oh, God, I ask You, keep from care
Those people whom I hold most dear.
I wish them not to shed a tear
In anguish over days now done,
Where my dawn was their setting sun.
For then, if You will grant my plea,
I'll soon be nearer them and Thee.

Copyright Shawn H. Hall 2014

Copyright © Shawn Hall | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy |

Oh Syria

Reality is lost and I fear…
That someday, somewhere so near…
I will fall amongst the people so dear…
I fear…that I’ll just be another one…
Another one lost…

I wonder what the cost of my life is
not to get political…
But I want to know what the cost of my life is
Is it money, is it land?
I do not own any of them, I’m just a simple man

I remember, when I ran across your land…
I remember when I kissed my grandmothers hands…
You ripped me away from her, from my home
You took me away from my heart, you took me away from my soul

I feel helpless, I feel low
It’s hard to play along when I know, I have no role
I have become a slave.
After all the love I gave.

When I look at my country, people I want to save
When I look around me, people I wish to change
It seems like a hard thing to do…
When the world around is bigger than you

To the fools who dare murder in his name
When God gave us life…
He warned us, only he can take our lives…

Oh Syria, my home
Oh Syria, my all
Oh Syria, what did they hurt you for?
I am Proud to be your son…

Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |

Eyes Never Dry

Her eyes were never dry
Since she was born she would always cry…
No matter what kind of lie I would tell
She would see right through me , a smile she didn't sell…
I don’t blame her when her lips fell…
She knew the world was aware of our pain…
She knew nobody cared about evils reign
She knew nobody cared about every body that laid lifeless on the city streets…
She knew…
So I understand…
In her still so young heart
Knowledge of the world there was that no man had…
Even though she knew it could get her killed she just couldn't stand 
When justice wasn't served 
When her mothers killers were free
And we get something no human deserves…
So I ask her please smile… 
The pain will last just for a little while…

Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |


My Grandfather High-backed chair facing the corner, Window over books so cherished Loved. Like the greatest of scholars, but still humble He was a trove of stories Air of silence on a place once full Of stories from a time past, A time of honor and courage and duty Of country and spirit; fighting an enemy Made from indescribable evil. Tales of valor, sand, and bullets Lions and machine guns, young men in battle Fighting for their lives. Knowing the enemy was like a jackal Cruel and twisted, an army of evil He witnessed it all First hand, in the heat of the day And cold of night. Tales passed on, spoken In a way that conveyed such knowledge That one was to sit in amazement, and hear it Firsthand from the chair facing the corner. Like a throne of deep thought. The day he left this world, I wept. Seeing him not but a day before, It was harder than I could have imagined. The pain is real, but so were the memories And so the legacy of the veteran lives on. The chair sat vacant, but I felt him there. The books on the shelf, the other treasures Left behind held him here on earth While the memories anchored him in our hearts. The man in the chair shall never be forgotten And the stories shall pass far into the generations.

Copyright © john locke | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy |


Sometimes I am glued to the Earth
See every tear, every laugh and every soul that's hurt
Sometimes my mind is flying above our world…
Hear every thought…
But even there I have no silence
In my mind the violence I’ve seen…
In my heart the memories of the places where I've been
But memories are past…
And even though they last
They can’t replace the smell of heavens grass
They cant replace every tear, every laugh and every fist that there I’ve had
They’re just memories
I wish I was able to go back

and see home…

Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |

not lost , not forever

in honor of David J. Bredesen

Three days after your arrival in Vietnam you were gone
but you are not lost to us, not forever 

Your parents who grieved so stand by your side now.
together you wait for the rest of us.
and you are not lost to us, not forever

our children who never knew you are asking us about you
about what happened and why and how we felt 
as we tell of you and the family I think they feel for a moment as we did then
 and you are not lost to us or them not forever.

Copyright © Luann Pfost | Year Posted 2013

Details | Nazm |

An Elegy for Syria

After so many countries, now in Syria,
Increasing is the western bacteria,

The bacteria of hypocrisy and lies,
Which is in a dangerous disguise,

Under the banner of help and peace,
They seems like a white fleece,

They do things very secretly,
Pursuing interests very actively,

What they want is just conflicts?
In the entire world's districts,

They like when people kill each other,
Its how indirectly they do smother,

Try to understand that what is a war?
Because it opens up the profits door,

For the imperialists and dictators,
And of course their very own creators,

When imperialists start a war,
They make sure that its paid for,

So they pose to help by selling arms,
As if they are selling them charms,

In return of arms they make money,
So much that its not even funny,

On the other hand people also die,
In the region where they don't comply,

They want the entire world to obey,
Their orders and want them to say okay!

As long as one stays this way,
A nice attitude they will display,

But for instance if one says "NO" to them,
At first they get angry and hem,

And then come bans and sanctions,
Penalties all kinds of aggressions,

And still if they are not successful,
They wage a war to make stressful,

So that's what they did in Syria,
It was their anger and hysteria,

Because they couldn't do anything,
And through a war they wanted to sting,

But they forgot that who they are facing,
And what kind of a enemy they are racing?

They already are, their army, replacing,
And because of defeats they are reducing,

The Takfiri terrorists they brought in,
Are ruthless and not even human,

They are ripping chests of people,
And eating their hearts like animal,

So west and its cruel tactics,
Has nothing to do with the ethics,

So once and for all everyone,
Let's finish savagery which has begun.

All rights are reserved. Syed Imon Rizvi

Copyright © Syed Imon Rizvi | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |

Tis of Thee

Perched upon his Mast

A  Lions Roar perfused his Sails

Bearing down his paw on the waters current 

 Ferociously solid is this Leopards Hull

Traveling Our Seven Seas

Letting the Dragon route the course 

Tossed to and fro by the waves

Carried about by every wind of doctrine 

Only to be pierced with a sword......



 Perception of the Lord...has been..... Lost At Sea..... 

Copyright © Ninette Carey | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

Nuclear Armageddon

How is our mad world going to end?
With a deadly bang or a whimper?
Most people rarely stop to think of
Hiroshima and Nagasaki these days.
When they do, they usually think
that the Japanese fully deserved it:

“Didn't they attack Pearl Harbor?
We vaporized their women and kids
only because Tojo killed our men!
We incinerated their two cities to
save the lives of our fighting men
who were about to invade Japan.”

That's how the world keeps going....
A pompous, loud-mouthed general—
his testosterone level running high—
wants to teach Moscow a lesson
never to defy our global Empire....

A proud and imperious admiral—
aircraft carriers on his sword belt— 
wants to show the Chinese who's 
the boss in the South China Sea....

Bellicose diplomats want to lynch Assad,
like they did Libya's Muammar Gaddafi,
and open a dangerous nuclear game of
chicken with the Russians in Syria....

As the French say, the more things
change, the more they stay the same. 
People (not just the Bourbons) have
learned nothing and forgotten nothing.

This is how our world will end.
This is how our world will end.
This is how our world will end.
Our crazy world will end with a
roaring, fiery, annihilating bang 
and then a ghastly final whimper!

Copyright © Ross Vassilev | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy |

A Soldier's Elegy

A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
tranquility gurgles 
through silent valleys
over mountains
around the earth
through the wind

The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
adrenaline overrules
their ambient warning

Gust to gust each fades 
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts

The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird

Two brittle forms 
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
and protects 
what can never be touched
divine oblivion 
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt 
six feet deep.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

Naked death

			Naked death

…the barred and sealed cattle wagons
at the Konzentrazionslager
						            the faux pas relief
    from urine mud faeces sweat and tears
unkempt armpits buttocks best wear
   turned to damp rags
                             reduced to moaning cattle
		even the heifer   wan straggly limp

          Alles! Raus!

…the last quick dab of face powder
	the lipstick dried blood tan
the felt hat lying  soggy stained
		through bellowed haste
   on the mudcaked barrack floor
the wampumpeag plucked by the helmeted claw
  stabbing on sole-cold cutting cement platform
      averting glances on sapped sagging busts
	shoulders hunched buckled in
     fingers reaching to scratch loins
		nostrils quivering
	whose the naughty stench

then the trooped Indian file
		stray belongings dumped
in a wasteproduct pile
    the once highheeled gait
  slumping to a side
from the hips down to a jaggedknee limp
   prodding the miasmal mist
       the exposed varicose veins
   the knotty pubis
                                the mons veneris
the intimate warts and moles
   last year’s Ceasarian stitches
        the rump  twitched less

the lack lustre sentry gazes
the unmasked leer
the disdainful pursed lips

			neither shame nor pudeur

and then the last gangway to nowhere 
         the Ave-Maria road to Himmelweg
			a reprieve

From the privately pub. coll. (re-worked 2016): longhand notes ( a binding of poems), 1999, 115p.
© T. Wignesan – Paris,  1999/2016

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy |

Mother's Day

I first cried in your arms
Even though I was barely alive
I knew that I would never see harm…
As long as I am in your embrace mom…
You were my first love
As you are my last…
I recall how the years slowly passed
When I was under your wings…
Nobody believed me, when I told them I could hear the angels sing…
But believe me mother I did…
I never felt safer than you made me feel
Even the deepest wounds in my heart, you could heal…
Today is mother’s day, and you are not here…
I guess somewhere in my soul I always feared
That the day would come when I was all alone
When everything I ever loved was gone
But I never expected my feet to leave your soil
I took the words your history taught me…
To always fight and be strong
When weak, to sing a proud song
Today is mother’s day…and you are not here
Wherever in this world I breathe…
In my lonely heart you will always be
My first, my last, my eternal love
My land…my mother…my all

Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

The Graveyard Rose

She was beautiful, unlike any other
She stood high above the ground shining with bright colours…
Had she grown somewhere else
People would line up, only to take in her scent…
But she was lonely…
The only rose to rise where the dead lie
So nobody ever came to keep her alive…
And she still grows…
In a field of snow, a picture so cold
There…the red beauty stands strong
As if her roots had grabbed the centre of the Earth below
In a loving embrace, never willing to let it go…
There she stood…
A soul so misunderstood…
The graveyard rose…

Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |


Behold, I saw the vision of the world
Smoldering in the ashes of hate
utterly consumed with terrors
Beaten, ragged and worn
blood touching blood
The gleam of liberty’s lamp dimmed
by the smoke of her burning
wail over her; wail and mourn 
For the smoke of her torment 
hath reached to heaven

 I turned and looked again, 
I saw the vision of the world
Hope birthed in the heart of man
Strength of an indomitable will
Faith’s torch glowing bright 
Freedoms light burning warm

Copyright © Lori Lucas McClure | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy |


How has it dawn on us so soon when we hadn’t even achieved much?
Why has the marketplace ceased to buy and sell so scanty the streets wither away
The clouds becomes more darkened as smokes ascend randomly our fields are on fire
We can feel the rain but it has lost its coldness

I hear more voices than I usually heard
This time of crying and wailing rather than chatting and hailing
chanting and singing songs of war
Dust and gun powders like fog fill the air,
with great rumble the battle rages
The long night tarry on nobody has awakened
Some privileged to pass on to the other side
Total transmission from what we see now
Carcasses litter the streets as we run from pillar to post
Yet not so sure where the lot may fall
Great assets lost in hot zones, they shouldn’t have taken the guns,
Gravesides more frequent than bedsides

When did we become such serious foes?
That tears can’t seem to mend?
We let our children die by our own hands and still squeeze our sorry faces
How valuable is this trophy, hope it’s worth the pains we are feeling now?

We match in battalions, onward we go
Faces brimming with boldness and courage,
Though fear still takes its partition
We leave behind loved ones not so sure,
like walking into the lions cave to kill or be killed
Jumping over strip wires, nice try
Only to step on landmines
A time to team up with death taking from one end
While it continues from the other side in its own way
Orphans, widows and widowers we make at will that which we had once pitied
What caused this sudden change?
So unfortunate many fighting ignorantly yet arrogantly

Now we pull down our once fancied walls to build more refugee camps and fill them
We overstretching science and make of men expendables
A time we show how much we can take

What we depict now is wickedness rather than strength
In this game
Winners are

Copyright © victor nwakanma | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

that's just how the world works

No one saw it coming, the time of doom now at hand 
War is around every corner, no one can help us now
Bombs fly and the innocent die
That’s just how the world works

Try to see the good in the world young child 
For if you don’t who will
If not now then when 
The fate of the world rests in your hands

As one generation fades 
Another shall rise from the ashes 
Spread around by war and destruction
The fate of the world rests in your hands

Heroes will emerge and enemies will be defeated
But more enemies will rise 
And our heroes will fall
That’s just how the world works

The war will end and allies will part 
Until another war starts 
Smoke filled skies will clear up
And fallen enemies shall sulk
That’s just how the world works  

Copyright © Dakota Burns | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy |


By Immaculata Ortner

Sorrow springs in black savannah
Where nature proved its pride
Silence sting like ancient drone
As dark melody rose 
Winging high in spike like dragon spew
As discomfort swells in black souls
Our top was not so high
Neither was our thoughts wild!
When strangers flirt and raid our shores in with minds of wolfish beats
Our words and swards were sheath
And the voice of our chanting drum was trunk
Groaning grey in grievous tones
As darkness shades our doomy world
They traced our path in search of liquid golds, yet with books untold
They crack our walls with no defence, speak with hoot like owl!
They create a route of no return
Where blacks goods sniveled
They cleared our greens and dent
Our springs, yet we flinch and flee in fear
But though our nights, were doomy dark
The sun could rise in place of moody moon if brothers where brothers
Our wings could mount the stormy wind if friends we trust where truly friends
And the green we have would be truly green if tooth that flashed were purely white 
Then our tales of pride would glow

Copyright © Immaculata Ortner | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |

Blood Christmas

** A trauma on Xmas eve, 24/12/2010, late night.**


Christmas bliss! Christmas bliss!!
Bliss turned sour, sour turned blood.
Blood wrought cry, the cry for the brutally
As soon as mid night surfaced, every one's loins leaped,
Helpless innocents wept,
For another crisis was born...
Gun shots vexed into straying helpless,
Dispatching for their lives....
Matchets wounds, went deep-deeper
Like pot holes.
Blood splashed like rain drops
Oh! no when will Jos crisis end?
Who will be the rescue?
Someone give me a clue? 
We woke up to find dead mass,
Today being Christmas,
Shattered by bomb blast,
Where will these lead to at last?
Marauding fanatics... so mindful 
Of blood.
Blood Christmas! blood Christmas!!...
Beware... and watch your back!
Or you you'll be caught unaware in the midst
Of the bliss turned sour...


Copyright © Charles Melody Lightning Ink | Year Posted 2010

Details | Elegy |

Christmas Rebels (3).

Then the leader in a flash
Sent his bullet through my 
Pregnant wife’s stomach, 
Sending the bullet out of her 
To my little girl’s brain.
He was a killer glutton, for he turned to my 
Son’s brain, scattering it,
With his axe, making the brain 
Splash on my dazed countenance.
They swiftly and organisingly boundled me up
Amidst my confusion and helpless struggles,
They cut off the veins at the back of my fits,  
Leaving me in a river of blood.

Death claimed my home,
His weapons were the Christmas rebels, 
On a melancholic Christmas night.
My saddest Christmas ever.


By Charles Melody (Lightening Ink)
For all the victims in jos crisis.
Rest in peace.

Copyright © Charles Melody Lightning Ink | Year Posted 2010

Details | Elegy |

dis poem, in honor of unstable poets


Dis poem is in honor of manic mistresses who war against the fleeting flesh,
Yo, dis poem is honor of schizophrenic Don Quixotes, swingin' at windmills of panic
stricken consciousness,
Yo Dis poem,
Yo Dis poem is honor of maestro's chasin' the muse of the logos made flesh,
In words, the only comfort they possibly know,
Flowing in a reverie of ecstatic epiphany,
Caressing solace, defeating the alienation of solitude,

The man sat staring at the fractured scatterings of a generation that had forsaken kindness,
And the woman saw him, and outstretched her hand, but the agent of chaos grabbed her,
Purpose, he said, purpose,
And the angels wept,

Yo, genius shining through the tears of fear made real,
Reeling, peeling, away layers of miraculous fish feeding thousands,
Miraculous words, healing a generation,

Begging Christ for a moment's rest,
From the war that wages within,

Men sing songs of triumph,
But courage is when your very mind won't have you,
And your heart, mocks you with its mercurial caprice,

Genius shining through hilarious and cacophonous laughter,
Outraged and astounded,
Dumbfounded and incredulous,
At how no one can feel this,
Pain that seems so salient,

Raging seas of foaming mouths in ascetic white rooms of institutionalized slavery,
Thieves profiting on the sound of crying children,
Praying, wishing that their parents would piece together the puzzle of sanity,
And rest in the greenhouse of sanctuary,

But God won't have it.
For this suffering is but a moment's mist,
In the calculus of eternity,
And in the end, a tree of inspiration,
Emerges from the relentless voices,
And the world knows healing!

Copyright © Woodrow Lucas | Year Posted 2008

Details | Elegy |

war regret

Our brothers were born upside down
They were conceived by mistake.....and 
our fathers choose to call them prodigal

Who would have thought as much?
With their faces beaming with smiles as 
their foreheads shone bright with promising future,
There names we never wished to forget because
 they made us live reciting it again and again
But they ended up stamped on grave stones just because 
they were too obedient to pick up the gun and had gone

Now we wished they weren’t born at all
We wished they hadn’t picked up the gun but run
We wished we were wishes
We wouldn’t have wished war.

Copyright © victor nwakanma | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

Pro War Fantasy

Let's hear them yell, cheer, and shout!
 Watch them pray for it with passionate hearts

Body count reaching eight thousand, but who cares?
 Mass trauma infliction, but who cares?

You can hear their excitement from miles away.
 Endless occupation is their Christmas wish

The long contained desire for scorched earth...
 Is that what they cherish in a mother's prayer?

Fifty years in and still squealing for more
 Nothing brings them comfort, but a bloodthirsty war

Copyright © Ian Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy |

The camera as a weapon

A moth to the heart of the light, flamed
A memory semi-precious, almost alive
A random arced flight of a bullet not aimed
A gymnastic crimson misted dusty dive.

An event striking elsewhere, a country un-named
His memories stop, awards to come; cease,
Mass shock, horror, and politics blamed
Kind words at his funeral, sandwiches and teas. 

His very last printed picture has a small hole in it, 

Then something red…

Then nothing...


( Based on an event where a photo-journalist that I knew, was killed in a war )

Copyright © Stuart Ackerman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

1 Minute

00:01 ~ where is the kitchen, i must find it. time time time
00:10 ~ i have always admired how shiny knives are
00:12 ~ i want to dye blades with red, a lot of red
00:19 ~ ah the door, i must get out and find red
00:25 ~ i see brown, white, black walking around
00:27 ~ looks like there is red under all those colors
00:30 ~ hahahahahahaha, all for the reaping
00:36 ~ i lift my knife and head towards white
00:38 ~ i look as white is dyed red, such beauty
00:45 ~ brown, white, black, my knife likes all types of red
00:47 ~ whats this? I look with disbelieving eyes
00:49 ~ i see a place piled with dead black, white & brown 
00:50 ~ the land is dyed red with blood...greed, hatred
00:51 ~ i can hear the blood crying, it will haunt me
00:52 ~ my blade has lost its appetite and repents
00:54 ~ humanity has painted itself red so i turn my back
00:56 ~ i walk away trembling hoping never to awake again
00:58 ~ why should i reap such dirty souls, i reject them
01:00 ~ i go back to sleep and wait for that day.

My name is Grim Reaper and this is my diary as recorded on the date of xx.xx.xxx. Humanity, how far will you go to gain what you want with those cold eyes and greed neatly sewn on your hands?

Copyright © Patience Mudau | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy |


In helter-skelter  
everyone scatter.
I joined the rest of  
legs to jump gutter.
Everyone is an 
Africa  jet.
Flying dug above 
the  moon.
permanently fell to  
the earth.
Now east is a hell
and north,an  
While west is a  
flooding ocean.
Forked lightening 
and thunder guard 
the south.
Yet the center is  
Death is calling  
Our Eden became 
Sodom and 
I ran to undestiny  
being pursue by 
guns and cutlasses.
Panting like hunting  
I stumbled and fell  
into a trance.
I saw an old blind  
too blind to behold  
Jubliating with hands 
placed on her head.
Mother can't  
recognize her child,
let alone an eye  
I am as helpless as  
helpless herself.
I was so paralysed 
to  stand up.
I gazed at her with  
eyes of mercy
but was posses with  
legs of paralysis.
Because life race is  
Continually falling 
and rising
in dying and living,
I ran to an edge
I lifted up my head 
and saw gun 
pointing  at my 

Copyright © UGWU CORNELIUS CHIDERA | Year Posted 2014